by the way, here's the song that basically sparked the whole idea for this fic...
I imagine it being like, the main song for this fic. if you wanna feel this fic through music, here it is~
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJkyTsgBRo0&feature=related - Take Care by Drake feat. Rihanna
(Drake = Taec's POV, Rihanna = Junho's POV)

Taecyeon watched the sleeping man stir and debated on waking him from whatever nightmare left him restless. But he didn’t. He just sighed and sat up, since he couldn’t sleep with Junho moving around the way he was. With a groggy hand, he reached to the night stand and pulled on his glasses so he could actually see. It’s morning anyway. He thought as he walked across the hotel room, his bare toes digging into the carpet as he slowly pushed the curtain open just enough for him to see.

   Light blinded him for a moment until his eyes adjusted and then he had a clear view of the city. His city.

   He always hated coming back here, back to the memories.

   His time in Busan wasn’t the worst part of his life, it was the calm before the storm. The time right before things became bad, and because of that, he hated the place. He knew it was immature to be so bitter about the past, but the good memories were mocking, overshadowed by the life he had lived when he was ripped away against his will and sent away.

   Things were so different back in the states.

   Life was so different.

   High school was a joke. The most it taught him was how to struggle.

   He recalled it all. The condescending teachers, the jocks bullying the geeks, the fight for popularity. Everyone trying to be politically correct, trying not to be ‘dysfunctional’ . . . but what really is functional? He recalled the parties that the uncool kids were never invited to, the underage drinking and smoking just because you couldn’t, the massive amount of teen that wasn’t even all that good. And no one would ever admit that the only reason why anyone did any of it was so that they could have a sense of belonging that, in the end, never really came.

   Sick of recalling, Taec turned away from the window and looked at the bed, inevitably smiling at the figure that was lying and wearing nothing but the now peaceful look on his soft face. He was happy to see Junho sleeping soundly, finally.

   He still couldn’t get over how beautiful the younger male was.

Junho clutched the bottle in his hand tightly as he stumbled up the stairs, giggling to himself. He had to pee so bad it was funny. Or maybe it was the alcohol making things seem funny. It really didn’t matter, he was just trying to find the bathroom in the overly crowded party at the house he’d never been to before. His friend Jinwoon had invited him.

   When Nuneo found the bathroom, he closed the door and locked it, setting his best friend – Mr. Gin bottle – down on the counter before finally noticing the person standing in front of the toilet, zipping up his pants and then let out a quiet gasp.

   The other person looked over at him and flipped his long bangs from his face. “Don’t worry, I’m done.” He muttered with a cigarette caught between his lips and then turned to Junho, eyeing him up and down.

   Junho had forgotten about his need to use the bathroom as the tall boy took the cigarette out of his mouth, putting it out on the fake marble counter and then flicking it in the open toilet. “I’ve never seen you before, who’d you come with?” The stranger asked, tucking his shoulder length hair behind his ear.

   Due to the alcohol, Junho was slow to process just about everything and found himself staring at the other. He was captivated by the dark locks and the boyish yet masculine face, the black eye liner and nail polish on the nails of the large hands. The stranger smirked when Junho stared in a drunken daze. “Let’s go back to my place.”

   Junho could tell by that smirk, that dangerous smirk, that the other guy had nothing but wicked intentions, and it scared him a little.

   The next thing he knew, he was sitting on a messy bed in a semi-crappy loft. Junho propped his chin in his palm and watched as the boy whose name he learned was ‘Chansung’ sat on the other end of the bed, playing an old guitar and singing some American rock song. The lyrics, even though he couldn’t understand, he knew were sad. And suddenly he was sad. And drunk.

   “What’s wrong?” Chansung stopped playing and looked at Junho.

   Junho wiped the tears away, too afraid to open his mouth in fear of the drunken blabber that would pour out. He didn’t know what he was doing there, with that stranger, drunk off his mind.

   “Hey,” Chansung set the guitar down and reached over, taking Junho’s chin gently. “Junho . . . don’t cry, okay? I won’t hurt you.” Junho looked up and could tell . . . He saw straight through the disingenuous mask of that person. But he also saw something else, something less sinister. Something actually quiet beautiful. And so he let the other lean in and press their lips together, he let his mouth get breached by the other pierced tongue, he let himself be taken over completely and he knew he wasn't going to be able to escape.

   Junho woke up from the dream and sat up, in a cold sweat. The bed he was sleeping in was empty, so he forgot where he was for a moment, until a voice pulled him back to reality, away from the vicious memories and dreams of his past. “Junho, are you okay?” Taecyeon said from across the room.

   When Junho looked over, he blinked in a half daze and then realized Taec was standing by the window. He had glasses on that made him look different, but in a good way, and his face was contorted with concern.

   “Junho?” Taecyeon asked again, this time walking over to the bed.

  “A-Ah . . . yeah.” Junho sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, realizing that he was still from last night and then blushing at how close Taec was. “Yeah, I’m fine . . . I just had a weird dream.”

   Taecyeon frowned. “I know, you’ve been tossing and turning all morning, I was getting concerned.”

   . Junho blushed. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t keep you up.”

   “I’m fine,” Junho was caught off guard by Taec’s hand gripping his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. “Now come shower with me so we can get dressed~” The older man smirked and then stood up, disappearing into the bathroom.

The car was quiet as Taecyeon drove them from the airport. With a sigh, he gripped the steering wheel and accelerated as he got on the highway, heading to Junho’s apartment. Usually, he would be happy to come home after closing a business deal that would increase his salary by a hundred million won a year, but ever since that morning, Junho had been quiet and it was really starting to bug the hell out of him.

   What irked him the most is that he had no idea what was wrong, so he felt helpless.

   Ever since Junho woke up, he had been acting more reserved, almost like he was scared of something. It must have been that god damned dream. Taecyeon sighed, knowing he had no right to ask Junho what he had dreamed about. He had no right to be upset or overly concerned, but he was both.

   Too quickly, Junho had told him to get off the highway and was pointing him the directions to his apartment. This isn’t too far from my place . . . He thought as he parked in front of the smaller apartment building. It could take him five, maybe ten minutes to get here if the traffic was bad.

   Before he realized it, Junho was opening the door and grabbing his small bag that was on the floor between his legs. “Thank you for the ride, Mr. Ok. I’ll see you in the morning.”

   “Hey wait!” Taec reached over and grabbed Junho’s arm before he could turn away. The younger looked at him with confusion. “Before you go . . . I need to talk to you.” He tried to explain the best he could, not really doing a good job at it since he truly didn’t know what to say.

   “What is it, sir?” Junho was calling him ‘sir’ and ‘Mr. Ok’ again . . . it was really disheartening.

   He jumped out of the car, walking over to the other side and looking the shorter man directly in the eyes. “Are you alright?”

   Junho smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “Yes, goodnight.” He started to turn around, but Taecyeon stopped him yet again, this time pulling the smaller man close to him. Junho gasped and looked up at Taecyeon. “Wh-What are you d–”

   Taecyeon leaned down to cut him off with a kiss. It was neither opened mouthed or y, but it was passionate. Honestly, he had no idea why he’d done it, but he couldn’t let Junho leave him without a goodbye kiss. His hands reached up to cup around the face of the smaller man as he mumbled against the soft lips. “You don’t have to be so shy with me, Junho . . . I won’t hurt you.” Taec pulled back to look the other in the eyes, hoping he would trust him. Hoping Junho would understand that he meant his words.

   Junho stared back at him in silence, his face torn between appreciation and fear. When a tear rolled down Junho’s cheek, Taec wiped it away with his thumb, the other grabbed his hand and curled his fingers around Taec’s tear dampened ones. “You see, Mr. Ok . . .” As Junho spoke, more tears came, each one breaking the other’s heart. “I’ve heard that before,” The crying boy looked down. “And they didn’t really mean it.”

   Taecyeon pulled his chin up. “I’m not them, Junho.” He leaned down again, brushing his lips softly over Junho’s, trying his hardest to kiss the pain away. He didn’t like to see people he cared about in pain and there was no denying that, even in such a short time, he had grown to care a great deal about Junho. “I’m me . . . and whatever they did to you, I’m not going to do that, never. Okay?” He pulled the other into an embrace and the two stood there. In that moment, one thing was clear in Taec’s mind; and without even realizing it, he had made it a priority to fix the broken boy in his arms.

Junho could still feel the tingling comfort of Taec’s lips on his, the warmth that had somehow reached his soul and made things just a little better. The elevator doors opened and Junho stepped out into the hallway by his apartment.

   He noticed the other elevator doors closing just as he could have sworn he saw a head of ruffled black hair hidden behind a guitar case strapped to a back. Junho stopped and stared at the now closed elevator and then shook his head, frowning. He knew that it couldn’t have been that person; he worked the night shift as a radio dj, which was why they were hardly ever home together.

   He flicked the lights on in the dark apartment as he closed the door.

   After two years, he’d gotten used to the silence that welcomed him home. Junho walked past the kitchen, seeing the dosirak he packed for that person to eat while he was gone was now sitting empty in the dish rack on the counter. And then he noticed that the rest of the apartment had been straightened up, not that it was dirty to begin with, but the garbage had been taken out and the pillows on the sofa were set perfectly and the floors had been cleaned. Junho smiled at the light gesture that he recognized as that person’s way of apologizing.

   It was always the little things that kept Junho from leaving.

   Those small acts gave Junho, what he knew deep down inside to be false, a sense of hope; the feeling that that other person just might care about him, underneath it all. A maybe, that was all it took to scare Junho into staying.

   Exhausted, Junho ran his hand over his face and sulked to the bedroom, dropping his bag by the door and turning to go to the bathroom. He would shower and then go to bed early, though he wasn’t tired.

   He pulled off his shirt, tossing it in the hamper by the door and then pouting at his horrible aim as the clothing landed in the trash can next to it instead. Chuckling at himself, he went over and pulled the shirt out the trash, blinking at what he saw sticking to the bottom of the otherwise empty trash can. He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and reached in, picking the piece of plastic up, recognizing the thing immediately.

   Junho bit his lip and threw the used back in the trash and then washed his hands once and then again before cupping his hands and covering his face with cold water.

   Even though he’d never seen it, Junho knew that there was a side to his boyfriend that he didn’t know, that he wasn’t allowed to know. He knew that that side was a bad side, and that every time he talked to his boyfriend, every time he learned something new and beautiful about the boy, he would forget about the bad side. Little by little, it would fade out of sight, but never disappear completely.

   Junho looked up in the mirror as the cold water trickled down his face, this time was different.

   As he always did, he ran into his room, pulled the bed sheets off and stuffed them in the washer before pulling clean ones out of the linen closet, making the bed. After he was done, he pulled the trash bag out of the bathroom and took it out. This time it was so different, but it still hurt.

   Without thinking, he pulled out his cell phone.

Taecyeon hadn’t gone home yet, he was down the street from his villa, getting a bowl of noodles as a late dinner that he really didn’t need – It was more or less comfort food, really – when his phone rang.

   Chewing the mouthful of noodles and pulling his phone out, he saw the name on the screen and immediately answered it. “Mr. Ok’s phone~” He was amused, happy, and also quite shocked.

   He had told the other to call him if he ever needed anything but let’s be honest . . . he didn’t think he’d get the call fifteen minutes later.

   ~Mianhae for bothering you, sir . . . I just . . .~ Junho’s timid voice broke off over the other end of the phone. Taec heard the other sigh. ~Y-You said for me to call you . . . if I was ever in need~

   “Don’t worry about it,” Taecyeon wiped his mouth on a napkin and leaned back in his seat, thoroughly interested in why Junho was calling. “What can I help you with?”

   ~I . . . w-well I was wondering . . . I-If you’d have a drink with me~ It was cute how shy Junho asked such an innocent question. ~I need a friend~ The younger admitted.

   A friend. Taecyeon smirked and then stood up with the phone still to his ear, pulling some money out of his pocket and leaving way too much on the table. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He confirmed, nearly running to his car.

To be continued